Lingering touch as I burn to ashes
by toganeshiro
Summary: But he had known at that point. There's no way he could pull away from his touch. The way it burned his skin and opened him up, like he's a meal to be served naked on a plate and Akihiko's mouth were opened wide, ready to eat him whole. Hesitantly, hesitantly, he brought his hands up. Letting the fate tie a crimson red coloured string on his little finger to this man's.


_follows after __**Overflowing**__, and __**Slowly, Together**__. but can still be enjoyed without reading them I guess? I recommend reading the previous ones though since they are kind of related._

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_**Lingering touch as I burn to ashes**_

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Each beat of the drum rings profoundly in his ears.

Like it's his own heartbeat he's listening to, loud and clear. And he can feel each thump with his body.

The first thing he woke up to this morning was Akihiko asking his permission to practise drum _again_, and he's been going at it for almost an hour now. Akihiko should be thankful that their room is soundproofed or else they'd be receiving complaints from their neighbours every morning now.

_Fifth day_, wasn't it?

The drum practise has been going on a lot, lately. He recalled hearing Akihiko saying something about their performance in a week so maybe that's the trigger.

Those hands move nimbly hitting the drums and his head bops up and down in regular tempo. The thin smile on Akihiko's face is not that hard to notice when he's looking at his practise sessions every morning now.

It's been way too long, since he last saw that glimmer in those sharp eyes.

Like he had just discovered music.

Fell in love with it.

And the only thing he can do right now is watch Akihiko as he pours all his emotions into his music.

He pulls the blanket up to cover his neck and curls up under it. The weather's getting colder now and he hates the cold breeze against his skin.

He craves the heat from Akihiko's touches. From even the slightest touch of his fingertips on his neck, it spreads to his shoulder. Then with a calloused palms that embrace his back as they lose themselves in pleasure.

Then with that chest pressed on his back, he can feel his skin burning where they touch.

The heat spreads to his whole body and he'd forget the temperature of the room. Their room is dark and enclosed, with minimal windows making them unaware of the time or day. Or even the month and season they're in. And all he knows is that Akihiko's touch burns him.

And he hates it.

Like years ago, in that music room that belonged only to themselves.

He wonders why he kept spending his time in that open space, even when he's got his own soundproofed house perfect to practise violin. On rainy days, their violins would be kept in its case, sitting on top of one of the desks there. And they'd sit in the corner, talking and talking until the sun set.

When their shoulders accidentally bumped together from sitting too close, he'd pull away and pretend nothing happened.

It burned even when the touch was slight and through their uniform's blazer.

And he hated how novel it felt.

Then on one winter day with the snow dancing as it falls to the ground on the outside, they stayed in that music room like usual. And as if Akihiko was struck by something, a sudden surge of emotions unexplained from the expression on his face.

He was held tight and he felt like his shoulders were about to crush under the strength of Akihiko's embrace.

It burned.

It _burned_.

But he had known at that point. There's no way he could pull away from his touch. He could never run from Akihiko. The way it burned his skin and opened him up, like he's a meal to be served naked on a plate and Akihiko's mouth were opened wide, ready to eat him whole.

His legs staggered and his arms shook on his side.

Hesitantly, hesitantly, he brought his hands up. Letting the fate tie a crimson red coloured string on his little finger to this man's.

The snowfall coloured his sight white when he looked through the window behind Akihiko. But the second he buried his face on Akihiko's chest, he forgot about it and thought about how the summer that year was scorching and they needed to change into their summer uniform.

That night he came home with a bruise on his shoulder.

"Ugetsu?"

The music has stopped, his cheek feels warm and he opens his eyes to see Akihiko sitting on the edge of the bed; his hand caressing his cheek and hair.

"How did you fall back to sleep while I was practising drum?" Akihiko laughs and it sounds like music in his ears. And for one moment he wants to record that laugh and save it on his phone, so that he could listen to it whenever he wants. "Sorry I woke you up, can't believe you really slept through it."

Akihiko pulls away and moves to sit in front of their coffee table, his back against the bed and he pulls up his laptop.

"What are you doing?" he asks as he reaches out to Akihiko, his chin on Akihiko's shoulder and arms around his neck. He leans in close and he can smell Akihiko's shampoo tickling his nose. The same lavender scented shampoo he uses.

"I need to collect this report today."

_A report, he says._

He laughs. "You have a report due in a few hours and you woke up early to practise drum instead."

"Can't help it," Akihiko raises his hands and wiggles his fingers. "My hands are itching to play."

That's so like Akihiko, he wants to say. But instead he just laughs some more. Rubbing his head against Akihiko's and breathing in some more of Akihiko's scent. His thumb draws lazy circle on Akihiko's shoulder letting the heat spreads from there.

"I like it when you laugh."

Ah.

_So honest, Akihiko._

He stops his laugh and stares at Akihiko from the corner of his eyes. Making eye contact with those soft eyes looking straight at him, the green hued irises looks so apparent since they're this close. It's a green he loves, a green he feared, a green that makes him crumble and lose strength.

The softer Akihiko looks at him, he weaker he gets.

"Coffee," he says as he pulls away from Akihiko. The air is suddenly too cold for his skin again. He smiles, "I want coffee."

Akihiko groans, "treating me like a slave again, are you?" He gets up nonetheless. That's just how Akihiko is. "What about breakfast?"

"I'll eat later."

"You keep saying that then forget your meal."

"I won't, I won't," he sings.

"Here," Akihiko sighs and gives him his coffee. One hand holds his smaller cup, while the other holds Akihiko's own bigger one. Sometimes he regrets breaking its matching pair just because he doesn't like it. His mind is a maze and even he doesn't know the way around it sometimes.

He sits up and takes the cup in his hands, it feels too small. "Thanks."

The smoky aroma reaches his nose and he smiles, Akihiko's coffee is always better. The aroma is stronger and yet when he sips it, it's delicate and sweet. Just like how Akihiko is.

"You haven't gotten out of bed at all today, have you?" Akihiko says, with one hand on his hip and knitted brows. "At least put on some clothes or you'll get sick."

He smiles and meets Akihiko's eyes for a second before reaching out to put his cup on the table. The blanket on his lap shifts and falls down to the floor, and now his whole body is exposed to cold air. The smirk is still on his face when he stares at Akihiko with bedroom eyes, then raising both his arms up in the air, "put it on me."

Akihiko blinks a few times and evades his stare.

And his smile only grows wider.

Akihiko puts down his coffee and clicks his tongue, trying to put up an act as if he's annoyed. But Ugetsu knows how Akihiko loves spoiling him and taking care of his needs.

His usual navy coloured sweater is just on the edge of the bed, Akihiko picks it up and helps him dress up. Gentle like he's treating a kid, yet with touches that drags along his skin and lingers a few seconds too long like he's hungry for it.

"Put on your own pants," Akihiko throws the rest of his clothes to him.

He laughs and puts them on himself. Akihiko sits on the edge of the bed and he won't stop staring. Even with just his stare, he feels his body burning. He groans and maybe the material of this sweater is too thick when he feels this hot.

The back of his neck feels tingly and he rubs it with his hands.

It burns.

He meets Akihiko's eyes and he lets out a sigh.

He drops his head on Akihiko's shoulder.

It burns.

It burns, but he can't pull away.

"I hate your touches," he says. And he can hear his voice cracks, now he curses himself for saying it. The slight flinch from Akihiko's body is noticeable, but his breath is calm and hot against his neck. "It burns on the places you touch. Like flame crawling up my skin. It's like you're desperately trying to get rid of my skin and look underneath."

All the places in contact with Akihiko, they burn. Ripping off his skin and slowly turning him to ashes. Crumbling under his touch, reducing him to nothing but Murata Ugetsu.

At this moment, he's not the prodigy or genius violinist.

He is simply a man who owns nothing but his own name, who has nothing but Akihiko by his side.

And he hates it.

He's scared.

Exposing himself and letting Akihiko burn him with his touch. Letting Akihiko see his self before music becomes his foundation and part of his life. Akihiko embraces him like he's desperate to see the Murata Ugetsu who's away from music.

Wanting to see the _him_ without music.

And that feeling, he can only accept it.

Because it feels so right under Akihiko's embrace. Because it feels so right to be exposed by Akihiko.

And he hates it.

He pulls the edge of Akihiko's clothes. Trembling fingers and he's scared, of letting himself become this weak.

"You're not the only one. I'm also becoming a different person under your touch," Akihiko's voice soft and he holds his trembling hand in his. Holding it firmly, with enough strength to calm him, yet not enough to hurt him. "But I don't hate it."

Akihiko kisses the top of his head, on that mop of messy black hair. Akihiko's one hand still holds his hand, while the other one on his back. Gently rubbing along his spine up and down.

"I love your touch, Ugetsu. And I want to be seen by you."

Akihiko is also experiencing the same thing.

He isn't the only one.

When he feels the touch is clawing at his skin and trying to expose him, Akihiko also feels the same thing. Akihiko is showing him a side that he hides from others. A side only he gets to see.

Exposing himself.

Just like Ugetsu.

_Why_? Why is Akihiko not afraid of showing himself to him? Akihiko offered him his heart and he broke it numerous times before. Letting it fall from his hands and break into pieces as it comes into contact with the floor.

Akihiko had to collect the pieces himself and glue them back together while he stood on the side and didn't help.

And even so, Akihiko gave him his heart again and again.

Why does Akihiko fall for him right after he falls out of love? Why isn't Akihiko afraid of showing him his deepest self? Why does Akihiko trust him so much that he's letting him in care of Akihiko's heart on his palm?

What if he lets Akihiko's heart fall to the floor and it breaks again, only this time for the pieces to be too shattered to be glued back together?

He can't.

Showing his weak self is too frightening and he doesn't want it. This is too much for him.

This isn't working.

"Ugetsu," Akihiko's voice is tender and his hand warm on his back.

Deep down, he knows.

He wants to be exposed and be seen as simply him.

When Akihiko held him tight a few winters ago in that music room, he knew he could never run from Akihiko's touch. The burning sensation and how it tries to open him up. He longs to be seen underneath music as his persona.

It's terrifying.

"Are you okay?" Akihiko asks. His voice deep and rough, yet it is kind and full of worries. Akihiko is now looking at him straight in the eyes, his green eyes cloudy and they're still the most beautiful colour he has ever seen. Both of Akihiko's hands rest on his shoulder and there he can feel the heat starting to engulf him again.

But they do not.

It burns.

It burns, yet Akihiko's touches are not meant to eat him alive.

Akihiko only wishes to see him, the way he wants to be seen.

Those touches are meant to protect him from anything that would harm the fragile him hiding behind the mask.

Hesitantly, hesitantly, he brought his hands up. Letting him feel that heat spreading from his fingers, crawling up his palms then arms until it's spreading through his whole body.

He is now no more than Murata Ugetsu.

He is letting Akihiko see this self he hides even from himself.

"I'm okay," he says.

He's okay.

Because Akihiko is protecting this fragile self under his burning skin.

And he silently promises to protect the heart Akihiko puts on his palm this time.

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_**End.**_

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_rip to akihiko's report due in a few hours._

_hm some points I want to mention though. about the red string of fate. thanks to a meta post I read on tumblr that mentions about them giving off soulmate vibes, nOW I CAN'T GET IT OUT MY HEAD BECAUSE YOU'RE RIGHT. THEY ARE SOULMATES. and so I can't resist slipping that in my fanfic ahh._

_I love that scene in ch17 where they hugged and both of them are like "there is no way I could live apart from this man ever again". also, I wrote about akihiko's embrace gives ugetsu a bruise. he is young, and at that time, he desperately wants to see under ugetsu's mask. there is no other hidden meaning other than that._

_I can't believe I finished this. I was pretty stuck while writing the beginning and the flow kinda jumped here and there at first. but I finished it! yeay!_

_this might or might not be the last fanfic before I go on a hiatus and focus on playing my games again. there is one more story I want to write but I don't know if I've exhausted my writing mode lmao._

_and after all, thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it._


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